Remember When The Sky Cried
by Illusory-Reality
Summary: "We can go our different ways, sleep in our personal beds, as long as he doesn't forget that I came to his aid. That I embraced him with such tenderness and love." SasuNaru


Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Rights reserved to their respective owners, like Masashi Kishimoto.

Summary: Sasuke remembers a special rainy moment with Naruto, that he thinks the blond has forgotten, but has Naruto really forgotten?

Accepts: Reviews, Flames, Suggestions, and other comments.

Pairing: Sasuke/Naruto

Author's Note: Simple one-shot I wrote at the wee hours of the morning about Sasuke & Naruto. I hope it turned out good, without confustions. Please R&R. Thanks.

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**Remember When The Sky Cried.**

Sometimes I wonder if he remembers that fateful night when we first truly met. If he treasures the time we spent huddled under the lone tree near the grave etched with the names of the heroes who died risking their lives for Konoha. If he ponders the confession I made in hopes his juvenile mind would be able to comprehend how the gesture between us carried silent promises I would only grow the courage to utter in my teenage years. I wonder if he felt the warmth of our bodies pinned together even when the heavy down pour penetrates the leafy shield of the tall tree protecting us. I doubt he recalls any of these special memories. He is too much of a dope to understand the depth of the emotions coursing through my veins then and now.

Perhaps I should be appreciative he is so forgetful, because it makes leaving much easier. It makes turning my back on him and the rest of the village a walk in the park. These feelings lack the weight to hold me back, I should be grateful, but I am not. I hate that I get furious over this, yet he damn well should remember the gentle caress of my finger brushing away rivers of tears, or the low whispers I used to soothe his troubles. He doesn't though. I can tell by the way he narrows those all-seeing blue eyes at the slightest touch. I know he hates me, just as much as he yearns for me to remain his best friend. He craves to save my soul from pain, but fails to realize his presences near to mine causes some of the agony to burn deep into my heart.

I wish he would remember the night when the sky cried to mask his own tears and I came strolling by unable to simply continue on to my private sanctuary. The manner in which my ebony gaze drifts to his crumbled form beside the bark, absorbing the sight of his shivering body racked with sorrowful sobs, pleading for someone to calm his raging screams—yelling for any form of kindness to ease his suffering. How I am lured to his side, with umbrella in my hands fighting the harsh winds, as I crouch down in front of him debating what to say. He probably doesn't recollect the stupid question I threw his direction in all my innocence:

_Do you like the rain?_

The blank, slightly confused, glance he regards me with still lingers in my mind. He thinks I have misplaced my intelligence, but I could not help asking at least something to break the silence between us. As awareness gradually sinks into his mind, he rubs frantically at his cheeks and eyes, horrified at allowing me of all people to view him in this pathetic state. I merely smirk at the meager attempt in amusement, though I am quite concerned inside but reluctant to show it. He manages to stick his tongue out while pouting cutely, before he lurches over in a violent couching fit, the tears resurfacing in the corners of his eyes. I remain frozen, muttering nothing as this goes on. I hate that I did not move an inch to help him. He probably remembers this part because of my selfishness.

When he calms down, I finally raise my hand to touch his shoulder in a light touch, barely noticeable, but he stills immediately. Those lovely blue eyes lock onto my emotionless gaze, in anger and in, what I can only decipher to be, fear. Bewilderment takes over within me, yet I shouldn't be surprised by this reaction. He probably thinks I mean him harm. He isn't exactly the favorite of the village. Everyone hates him...except me. I act like I do, but I don't.

I like Naruto Uzumaki, if only he could be less of a dope.

_Why are you here? Don't you have something better to do, **Sasuke**?_

My name left his lips like a detestable curse, which made my eyes grow colder than usual. In truth, I thought his first words to me would house more bite than this, so I prepared myself for it, yet the words still struck a cord. In those days my defenses weren't so stable, so the outside looks mostly unfazed, but the inside burns from the attack. Naruto is quite a weakness of mine.

_The rain will make you sick. For someone who calls himself my rival you aren't too smart. Go home._

I should have bit my tongue and stopped myself from saying those last two words. Go. Home. Naruto didn't have a true home, or anyone to love him. He is alone, like me. That is probably what gave birth to the overwhelming desire that overtook me in an instant that moment, urging me to show him it is a lie. Someone does love him. I did. So without warning I made him briefly see into the heart of his rival. I put my heart on display, so he could draw comfort from me. Just for a little while he could feel precious to someone else. He could feel precious to me.

Before the force of my words swept the false grin completely from his face, my arms embrace him tightly. I don't hold back this time. The touch isn't hesitant or light. Raw emotion is fueling me to touch him, to show him that I want him as he is. I want Naruto Uzumaki, the bane of the village, who makes me feel like I can live. That I can go on even though I am the last of my clan. He empowers me to train to be the strongest, and laugh in the face of my troubles. He is the special person I need to possess to make me whole.

_S-Sasuke? What are you doing? Let go of me!_

Negatively I shake my head, pulling him from his defensive position to press harder against my chest. I refuse to allow him to escape, to run, and to suffer alone. By now, he is basically sitting in my lap piercing me with his immense doubt of my intentions. He is expecting to be hit, or tossed aside like a worthless animal. This merely makes me squeeze firmer, and place my hand on the back of his head, trailing my fingers through his wild blond spikes. I grace him with a response, since he will not be sated with the reassuring touches solely.

_Shut up, dope. Just let me do this._

Surprisingly he quiets, dropping his head to my shoulder, as he sighs deeply. I feel the moisture seep into the fabric of my shirt, which means he is crying again. He shakes in my arms, telling me nothing of his plight, but I didn't expect him to share with me. I merely want to hold him. No words need to be said between us, silence is enough to deliver the message. If he knows I care I am content with that by itself. He can cry all he wants, I will not leave until the pain subsides, then if he chooses he can separate like this didn't happen. We can go our different ways, sleep in our personal beds, as long as he doesn't forget that I came to his aid. That I embraced him with such tenderness and love.

_You're not alone._

However, when the river dries up and we must dislodge ourselves he still carries those doubts. He believe me to be a liar by providing such sympathy and sweet affection. I force down the fury rising inside me. I give him the umbrella to keep dry. I allow him to run into the darkness, and disappear back to the shabby shack he calls home. The request for him to return home with me dies on my lips, as my gaze burns into his retreating form. I straighten to my feet, turning in the opposite direction, preparing for the lonely walk to my own depressing home. I know he will suppress this entire event. I know he will treat me no differently. I know I am still hated. The emptiness returns full blast, yet I move forward, never looking back.

_Naruto. Baka._

In spite of everything I thought I knew that day, the years pass and finally I am astonished to be proven wrong. When we are teenagers I find him again in the rain, under the same exact tree. He looks utterly pathetic like I remember. I have an umbrella in my hands and trek over to him, crouching down in front of him. He doesn't look up into my eyes, but he firmly grasps my shirt, yanking me against his chest, as his voice penetrates the raging winds. My ears ring at the tone escaping his warm demanding lips, so near to my own.

_Hold me again. Don't let go._

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_Phew, you made it to the end. Congrats! Did you enjoy reading this? Please leave a review and grant me a comment on what you thought. -arigato-_


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